Her older sister flushed. “I am not.”
“All your life, you’ve collected strays. Remember our old butler? You were forever making those herbal poultices for his bad leg.” Eloisa rolled her eyes. “Then there’s your spinster friend Miss What’s-Her-Name, who constantly summons you to her deathbed. Peter is more of the same.”
“He isnot.” Sybil bit her lip. “Besides, if anyone needs money, it’s Alastair. Remember how he showed up that time, deep in his cups, demanding that Aunt Charlotte lend him funds?”
“Girls, that is enough,” the dowager said. “These are members of our family you’re casting aspersions at. Family is everything; haven’t I taught you that?”
Sybil looked chastened, Eloisa sulky.
Sensing that the interview had come to an end, Rosie didn’t want to push her luck.
“Thank you for your time.” On impulse, she added, “And on the topic of family, if I can be of assistance in any way, please let me know. I’m certain my late husband would want his generosity to be shared with his kin.”
That was a lie, of course. Just because Daltry had been a tight-fisted miser with his relatives, however, didn’t mean thatshehad to be.
The lines on Lady Charlotte’s face eased. Her eyes warmed. “How kind of you. Your support is appreciated, my dear.”
“And if there’s anything thatwecan do for you,” Miss Eloisa chimed in, “please let us know.”
“Anything at all,” Miss Sybil said diffidently.
It was an opening that Rosie hadn’t expected. Yet the three seemed in earnest, and she knew she couldn’t let the opportunity pass her by.
“Since you asked,” she said with thudding hope, “I do have a favor to ask.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Two nights later, Andrew found himself in the not altogether comfortable position of riding in a carriage with his lover’s father and uncle, both of whom were armed to the gills. He’d just arrived at Kent’s office for a briefing when the news arrived that the mudlarks had located the shooter’s hideout. He’d insisted on accompanying the mission as had Harry Kent, who’d happened to be at his brother’s office. Now Kent’s partners were in a carriage behind them, their small caravan winding through the dark, twisting streets of St. Giles.
The older Kent looked out one window, his gloved fingers drumming on his knee whilst the younger looked out the other. Conversation during the ride had been stilted. The one thing Andrew had in common with the other two—Primrose—was a topic he didn’t want to delve too deeply into. For reasons he couldn’t quite fathom, the Kents were tolerating his presence in Primrose’s life, and he didn’t want to push his luck.
Andrew knew Primrose deserved better than him; he also knew that every moment they spent together made it more difficult for him to contemplate ever letting her go. With their every encounter, he discovered more to adore: her passion, theatrics… even the fact that she could be, on occasion, a wee bit daft. And, Christ, when she opened to him like a flower, exposing her vulnerable core—there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.
He loved every enchanting iota of who she was.
He knew his feelings but hadn’t shared them with her. The time wasn’t right. There was mayhem and murder to deal with and, besides, she’d been clear that she wanted an affair with no strings attached. Especially now, when her efforts to gain social approval were bearing fruit.
In bed last night, she’d told him about her success with Lady Charlotte. He wasn’t surprised; Primrose could charm birds from their leafy perches if she wished. In this instance, she’d convinced the respected dowager and her charges to put in a good word for her in the right circles. Her new relations had done more than that: they’d sung her praises. Now tongues were wagging about Primrose’s kindness to her new family and her grace in the face of tragedy.
“I’m on the path to respectability once more!” Primrose had said happily.
He was glad for her—glad that she was finally getting what she wanted. But it made him even more reticent to declare his love. The last thing he wanted was to pressure or burden her with the feelings he had no right to have.
Thus, he forced himself to take their affair day by day, to enjoy every moment that she was his—and it wasn’t difficult. His nights had become an orgy of pleasure. She, a novice, was teachinghimabout desire. Her natural sensuality astounded and entranced him, and she was growing bolder by the minute.
Last night, when she’d thanked him prettily for the diamond necklace, her hands had wandered farther and farther south. When her fingers had circled his cock, his breath had hissed through his teeth. It had been her first attempt at frigging him, and the way she’d explored his erection with feather-light caresses had nearly driven him out of his mind…
With a touch—hell, asmile—she brought him more pleasure than any of his previous lovers had. She was showing him that sex could be more than a physical exchange. His gut knotted as he thought of Kitty, of the years he’d spent tangled in her web. It shamed him more than ever that he’d once mistaken his feelings toward her for love.
Love didn’t take without giving. Love didn’t leave you feeling dirty and used.
Love didn’t make a whore of you.
It had taken him a long time—too long—to understand this. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Primrose about his stupidity. His weakness. He’d broken things off with Kitty too many times to count, and yet she would turn up like a bad penny after months or even years and somehow worm her way back into his bed. She’d never stayed long, only until she’d gotten whatever it was that she’d wanted. Money, usually.
It sickened him to think of how he’d allowed himself to be used. He almost wished that it had just been about the sex, which had been depraved yet never satisfying. But his addiction to Kitty had been more insidious: she’d treated him like a whore, and he’d believed that he deserved it.
He’d finally come to his senses two years ago—and Primrose had played a part in that, too. Around that time, her plight had come to his attention, and he’d begun to keep a watch on her from afar. He couldn’t explain it exactly, but witnessing her spirited struggle to overcome her origins had triggered a shift in him. Primrose’s bright determination had made him long to step out of the darkness. He’d ended his relationship with Kitty for good.
